


Countdown

by Severina



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John McClane is a hero.  The kind of guy that runs into burning buildings to save children and puppies, or dangles from the runners of a helicopter a hundred feet off the ground to stop the bad guys, and Matt only wishes he was making any of this shit up.  But Matt himself is not a hero, he's just a skinny guy whose claim to fame among his peers is that he holds the current record in Super Mario Kart, and in this case he's determined to be the voice of reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's smallfandomfest for the prompt "four minutes to save the world"
> 
> * * *

_Four minutes._

"We gotta go in," John says.

It's just the thing that John McClane would say, because John McClane is a hero. The kind of guy that runs into burning buildings to save children and puppies, or dangles from the runners of a helicopter a hundred feet off the ground to stop the bad guys, and Matt only wishes he was making any of this shit up. But Matt himself is not a hero, he's just a skinny guy whose claim to fame among his peers is that he holds the current record in Super Mario Kart, and in this case he's determined to be the voice of reason.

So Matt shakes his head and flicks a finger at the timer. "There's a countdown, dude! We go in early, we ruin everything!"

"Which of us has done this before, huh?" John bites out.

And okay, Matt has to admit that John is the expert here. Thirty years of experience has to count for something. But he's not exactly without skills either, and John has to respect that. He should respect that.

He might not respect that.

Matt's eyes flick to the timer.

_Three minutes._

There's a thin sheen of sweat on John's brow, though Matt's not sure if it's from the heat in the room or the tension in the air. He tries not to shiver when an answering line of perspiration slides down his spine; shakes sweat-tinged hair out of his eyes. The place is like a sauna, especially this close to the source, and he can barely think straight with the heat baking into his skin.

John side-glances him grimly, flexes his fingers before turning away. "Okay, I'll just—"

Matt reaches out to snag at John's arm, ignores the look of frustration on John's face. "Look, okay, just… just listen to me, all right? We don't know what will happen if we go in there!"

"We know what will happen if we don't!" John insists.

Matt has to concede the point, but he keeps his grip on John's arm even as he risks stealing a glance toward the other room. He can't see the people there, going about their day like nothing is wrong, but he knows they're relying on him. On them. "John," he starts.

"Let me go, Matt."

_Two minutes._

Matt swallows dryly, squeezes John's bicep gently before releasing his arm. Now that he's not so focused on John he can hear the voices in the next room, soft and muted. He swipes a hand through his hair if only to give it something to do, rocks back on his heels. And even though John is clearly the best choice here, he tries to remember something Lucy once said. Something about balls and his propensity to have teensy little ones. 

Matt takes a breath, thinks calming thoughts.

"What can I do to help?" he asks, proud that his voice only shakes a little.

John shakes his head. "Just move back, Matt."

Matt opens his mouth to protest, but then he sees the set of John's shoulders, the tension in his strong arms. The last thing John needs is to be worrying about him while all this is going on. He swallows again and reaches out to rest a tentative hand on John's shoulder. 

"No matter what happens…" Matt starts. And despite the fact that John teases him for being a motor mouth every chance he gets, the words freeze on his tongue. Instead, he meets John's eyes when the other man glances up. Tries to put everything he feels into the look he gives him, and knows John can hear everything he's not quite able to put into words when John's eyes soften.

"I know, kid," John says.

Matt watches John take a deep breath before stretching out a shaking hand.

_One minute._

Matt holds his breath when John reaches inside, bounces on his heels and lets the breath out shakily when John doesn't encounter resistance. He watches as John eases slowly away, his hand now steady. Firm. Because he's John fucking McClane.

"You're doing it," Matt says excitedly.

"Told ya," John grunts out. "Now calm down, kid, and hand me that--"

"What on earth are you doing?" a voice interrupts from behind them.

Matt gasps and lets out an undignified yelp as he spins around. He tries to stop his momentum by pin-wheeling his arms, but his hip still bumps into John and knocks him into the counter. He watches, wide-eyed, as John wobbles for a moment and barely keeps a grip on the pie.

"Hi, Holly," John says weakly. "We're just… uh…"

"Nothing," Matt says quickly. "We're not doing anything."

Holly's eyes flick to the open door of the oven and then back to the steaming apple pie clutched in John's oven mitt. "Uh huh," she says, one eyebrow cocking knowingly. "Well if you boys are done playing, there's a rather large group of family and friends in the living room that are waiting on that pie."

She shakes her head and turns sharply on her heel, but Matt thinks he still sees the corners of her mouth curving upward just before she turns away. And he definitely hears her snigger as she walks out of the room. 

He side-glances John. "That was close," he says.

"Coulda been a lot worse, kid," John says. He tips the pie onto the counter before narrowing his eyes, juts his chin toward the now-empty kitchen archway. "That one's tough, smart. Coulda made things difficult for us."

Matt smirks helplessly, leans over to rest his forehead against John's. "I love you," he says.

"Back atcha, Matty," John answers before he moves forward to press their lips together. It's not their most skillful kiss, as their kisses go – what with Matt unable to stop smiling and John actually snorting out a laugh just before their lips meet – but it's also kind of the best one they've ever had. 

Matt nearly jumps out of his skin when the oven timer goes off.


End file.
